


Coming Home

by adrianna_m_scovill



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 09:50:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13233216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adrianna_m_scovill/pseuds/adrianna_m_scovill
Summary: After a tough day at work, there's only one thing that can make ADA Barba smile. Or, rather, one person.





	Coming Home

**Author's Note:**

> I'm working (slowly) on a longer Barisi story, and it's pretty dark. So, I needed to take a break to give these guys a quick moment of happiness this morning. I hope you like it!

Carisi stopped in the doorway of Barba’s office, taking a moment to watch the other man. Barba was bent over his desk, scribbling furiously in his notes. His tie was loosened, his collar unbuttoned, and his jacket was off; to Carisi, this was always when Barba was at his most attractive—dark pants, white shirt, loose tie, suspenders…hair a bit unkempt after a long or stressful day…

Barba’s forehead was creased in concentration, though, and there were visible signs of stress in everything from his expression to his posture to the way his pen scratched away at the paper. Carisi wished he could smooth away the worry lines, kiss away the stress. He knew Barba, though, and knew that the lawyer wouldn’t rest easily until the trial was over. There would be another case; there always was. This one was bothering Barba—bothering all of them—more than some, though.

Sensing Carisi’s presence, Barba looked up. His surprise lasted only a moment, and then his eyes softened and a small smile touched his lips.

_That look_ , Carisi thought. That look was his favorite thing in the entire world.

“Hey, babe,” Barba said, but he was distracted, his gaze already sliding back to his notes.

Carisi stood there, smiling, watching him. Barba was usually careful to avoid terms of endearment and displays of affection when they were at work, or in public. Carisi didn’t mind, much. While he might prefer a little more physical affection throughout the day, Barba didn’t need to hold his hand on the sidewalk for Carisi to know how they felt about each other.

Now, Barba seemed unaware of the slip.

“Wanna get some lunch?” Carisi asked.

“ _Iiiiiii…can’t_ …” Barba murmured, frowning at his file. “Sorry, Sonny.”

“You know, I thought you might say that,” Carisi said, walking over to the desk. “So I brought lunch to you.” He set the paper bag on the corner of the desk, away from the folders and notes.

Barba glanced at the bag, up at Carisi’s face, and back to the notes. Then his gaze slid back to Carisi’s, and he sighed, setting down his pen and leaning back in his chair. He offered a smile to match Carisi’s, and said, “I’ll make it up to you.”

Carisi’s smile widened. He put his hands on the desk and leaned over, saying in a low voice, “Why don’t you stay at my place tonight? We can just relax and forget about this—”

Barba grimaced, and said, “I wish I could, but…” He gestured toward the papers on the desk and met Carisi’s eyes. “You guys did your jobs. Now it’s my job to put this son of a bitch away.”

“You need to rest,” Carisi said. “You look grumpy.”

Barba grinned, and the twinkle in his eyes made Carisi’s heart stumble in his chest. “I do that to scare people away.”

“Didn’t work, I’m right here.”

“ _Ohhh, never you_ ,” Barba answered, his voice soft. They looked at each other, green eyes holding blue, each wishing they could be somewhere else, somewhere private, alone together with no outside interruptions or obligations. Finally, Barba sighed quietly and straightened in his chair. “I’m going to be here late and I have court first thing in the morning. I’ll call you when I get home, though.”

“Alright,” Carisi said, pushing himself upright. “Just promise me you’ll at least eat something, yeah?” He pointed a finger toward the paper bag.

Barba nodded once. He was still looking up at Carisi, but his smile and twinkle were gone; his mind was already delving back into the darkest crevices of the case. Carisi flashed his dimples in a smile, tapped his knuckles lightly on the edge of the desk, and turned to leave.

“Sonny,” Barba said when the other man had reached the doorway. Carisi stopped and looked back. “Thank you.” Their eyes met again, and Carisi knew that Barba wasn’t thanking him for the food; he was thanking him for stopping by, for offering a momentary bit of happiness.

Carisi wanted to tell him he loved him. He wanted to say he would see him at home. He wanted to walk back to the desk and kiss him until the worry lines were gone from the lawyer’s face. Instead, he simply nodded, smiled, and strode from the office.

 

*       *       *

 

The moment Barba stepped into his apartment, some of the day’s tensions started to slip away. This wasn’t because he was home; it was because of the smells—simmering sauce and boiling pasta—and the sounds—the clang of dishes and the quiet strands of Bruce Springsteen. His apartment should’ve been waiting for him, as it always was—dark, silent, lonely.

Instead, the lights were on; music was playing; Carisi was waiting for him.

Barba set down his briefcase, stripped off his coat and jacket, and went into the kitchen. Carisi was at the sink, washing dishes. The pots on the stove were steaming, making the kitchen warm and humid. The smells made Barba’s stomach rumble, but food could wait.

Carisi turned partway toward him. His sleeves were rolled up, his arms soapy from the dishwater. He smiled at Barba, but his blue eyes held a little worry.

For Barba, there had been two bright spots in an otherwise abysmal day—looking up to find Carisi in his office doorway, and coming home to find that the detective had finally, for the first time, used his key to let himself into Barba’s apartment. Carisi was worried that Barba would be upset, or annoyed, to find him making himself at home. Nothing could be further from what Barba was feeling.

Before Carisi could say anything—there was an apology forming on his lips, Barba could see it—Barba said, “I’m glad you’re here.”

The lines eased from Carisi’s forehead, and he smiled.

On the other side of the kitchen, Barba reached up and loosened his tie, holding Carisi’s gaze while he did it. He knew how Carisi liked him—everything loose, a little disheveled. He saw the detective’s eyes glint in response, saw his smile widen.

“Food’s almost ready. I know it’s late but I figured you wouldn’t eat, at least not anything healthy.”

“You’re dripping on my floor,” Barba said, gesturing with his chin.

“Oh. Crap,” Carisi answered, quickly turning back to the sink. “Sorry.”

Barba smiled behind him. He crossed the kitchen and slid his arms around Carisi’s waist, pressing close to his back, breathing in his scent and letting it calm his raw nerves. He could feel Carisi’s heartbeat, his breathing, his warmth. Nothing, no one, had ever soothed him the way Carisi did—and, without even trying. The detective didn’t have to struggle to find comforting words or force his features into a sympathetic expression; he just had to _be_ , and his presence made Barba feel better.

He kissed Carisi’s shoulder and felt the small shiver that passed through the other man. Barba let out a breath. “Sorry about earlier,” he said.

“Believe me, I get it,” Carisi answered. “This was a tough case for all of us, we all want the trial to be over. But unlike you, I’m not worried. You’ll get him.”

Barba let Carisi’s faith wash over him. “I’m glad you stopped by earlier,” he murmured.  

“I know,” Carisi answered, and Barba could hear the smile in his voice. “You called me _babe_.”

Barba pulled back, his hands sliding to the other man’s waist as he put a bit of distance between their bodies. “I didn’t,” he said, as Carisi dried his hands and forearms on a dishtowel. “Did I?”

Carisi turned to face him. Barba’s expression held surprise and concern; his hands had settled lightly onto Carisi’s hips. “You did. I don’t think anyone heard, though.”

Barba studied him for a few moments. Cocking his head, he asked, quietly, “Why didn’t you tell me it bothers you?”

Carisi frowned. “It _doesn’t_ ,” he said. “And besides, like I said, I don’t think anyone—”

“It bothers you that I _don’t_ ,” Barba clarified. “I can see, you like that I said it. If you think I care if someone heard because—”

“Raf,” Carisi cut in, putting a hand against Barba’s chest. “I get it. You don’t want people talking about us. It’s fine.”

“I don’t want people talking about _you_ , Dominick,” Barba countered, and now _he_ was frowning. “You’ve worked too long and hard to get where you are to have a bunch of small-minded assholes suggesting otherwise. And it’s not fine if you’ve been thinking that I was somehow ashamed of this and you never said anything.”

“It’s not a big deal, Rafael. I know how you feel about me.”

“Do you?” Barba asked softly, searching Carisi’s face. “If I made you doubt…”

“Yeah, I liked it, okay? That’s not the same as being upset when you call me Sonny or Carisi or Detective. Any time you look at me, I’m happy. The rest doesn’t— _That_ ,” he said, smiling at the look in Barba’s eyes. “You look at me like _that_ , I’m good.”

Barba tugged Carisi’s hips forward, closing the distance between their bodies. “Do you want to go outside and make out?”

Carisi laughed, although he couldn’t hide his desire. “It’s cold,” he said.

“I’ll keep you warm.”

“It’s late, and you need to eat.” When Barba smirked at him, Carisi grinned, blushing, and said, “Stop it. I didn’t come over here so you could seduce me, you know.”

“I thought _you_ were seducing _me_ ,” Barba answered, still offering that smug little smile that never failed to fill Carisi with a flush of hot desire.

“Really?” Carisi said, raising his eyebrows. “The loose tie, the messy hair, the suspenders?”

Barba widened his eyes. “The suspenders? Really? I’ve been wearing these all day…”

“Don’t think I haven’t been thinking about it,” Carisi said. He could feel Barba’s growing desire, and now it was Carisi’s turn to smirk. “You don’t seem grumpy, anymore. Happy to see me?” he asked, his dimples deepening.

“Always. Leonard Cohen’s playing, come dance with me.”

“Dance?” Carisi asked, with an exasperated laugh.

“ _Dance Me to the End of Love,_ ” Barba said.

“You can’t even dance to this song.”

“I can dance to any—”

“I didn’t mean _you_ ,” Carisi cut in, laughing again. “Besides, my sauce is going to burn.”

“We need to work on your euphemisms.”

“And you said you were gonna be going over the case. Even though you know it all by heart.”

“That was before you got me all hot and bothered.”

“Well, if I’m _bothering_ you,” Carisi said, starting to pull away.

Barba’s hands tightened on his waist, possessively. “I need to work on my euphemisms,” he said, his lips quirking when Carisi grinned at him. “Did you just come over to force-feed me and work on my legal jargon?”

“I went to _law school_ so you’d let me work on your…legal jargon.”

“Is that why? You could’ve just asked—I’m pretty easy.”

“I wanted to impress you, first.”

“ _El que lee mucho y anda mucho, ve mucho y sabe mucho_.”

Barba saw the change in Carisi’s eyes—and felt the change in his body, and the ADA smiled. As much as Carisi liked him looking a little unkempt, he loved words murmured in Spanish even more. Even when he had no idea what they meant.

“You’re brilliant, and I was always impressed by you,” Barba added, without bothering to translate.

“I think I changed my mind about letting you seduce me,” Carisi muttered.

His smile widening, Barba said, “ _Donde hay gana, hay maña_.”

Carisi groaned. “Do I even _want_ to know what you’re saying?”

“ _Te adoro. Me haces feliz. Te amo._ ”

“Well, I know that last one,” Carisi said.

“I hope so,” Barba answered. Still holding Carisi’s body tightly against his own, Barba leaned up and kissed him. Carisi’s mouth opened without hesitation, but Barba’s kiss was quick, almost chaste, and he pulled his head back to meet the other man’s hooded gaze. “But just to be sure—I love you, Dom.”

Barba never looked more vulnerable than when he was declaring his love; that was Carisi’s second favorite look. “ _Sono innamorato di te_ ,” Carisi said.

Barba blinked in surprise. “You don’t even speak Italian,” he murmured, suddenly breathless, his lips barely moving.

“No, but _devi combattere il fuoco con il fuoco_.”

“Fire with fire— _hai studiato_ ,” Barba said, his eyes narrowing even as his lips curved.

Carisi rolled his eyes. “Of _course_ you already know more Italian than I do. Well, I tried. I thought I’d give you a taste of what it feels like when you get all romantic in Spanish.”

Barba lifted his brows. “That was more than a taste,” he said. “That was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.”

Carisi laughed. “Welcome to my life,” he answered.

“Say the first one again.”

“Hmm,” Carisi said, tipping his head, pretending to consider. “What was the first one?”

“ _Sono innamorato di te_ ,” Barba said with a grin.

Carisi feigned surprise. “Really? I’m flattered.”

“Dance with me,” Barba repeated.

“Okay, jeez, let me go first, my pasta’s getting mushy.”

“Doesn’t feel like it,” Barba said with a smirk. “I wouldn’t even say _al dente_ , in fact.”

Carisi laughed. “Let me go,” he repeated, even though he’d made no effort to get out of Barba’s hold.

Barba sighed, dropping his hands, and stepped back. “Alright, then, you check your pasta,” he said, starting to turn away. “I’ll just pop into the bedroom and get out of these suspenders—”

“Hey, no way,” Carisi said, grabbing his arm. Barba laughed—not a tired chuckle, but a real laugh that made Carisi’s heart stutter and his groin tighten. Barba looked at him, green eyes sparkling with humor and arousal, and there was no way Carisi could resist. He cupped a hand to the back of Barba’s head and kissed him; not a quick kiss, or chaste, this time.

Barba’s tongue quickly claimed Carisi’s mouth, plunging and exploring mercilessly, even as Barba pushed him back against the counter. When the ADA wanted to make a point, he knew how to drive it home. Carisi was never able to think clearly while Barba was kissing him, and he couldn’t care less.

When Carisi’s head had begun to spin from lack of air, Barba finally relented, breaking away to let the other man breathe. “Say it,” Barba said, his gaze bright as he met Carisi’s dazed blue eyes.

Carisi, breathing heavily, knew what Barba meant in spite of his arousal-induced confusion. “I forget it,” he admitted, with a sheepish smile.

Barba frowned, which only made Carisi’s smile widen.

“It’s your fault, Raf. Hell, you kissed it outta my head.”

“Then maybe I can kiss it back in,” Barba said, eyes narrowing.

“ _Te amo_ ,” Carisi answered, quickly. “I know that one. _Te amo_.”

Barba’s expression softened. “Do you have any idea how happy I am that you were here waiting for me?” he asked, quietly.

“Uh, yeah, I can feel how happy you are,” Carisi said with a breathless little laugh. He was moved by the look on Barba’s face, though—by his sincerity.

Barba let go of him and stepped over to the stove. He turned the burners off, sliding the saucepan to the back of the stove, before turning to look at Carisi. “Move in with me,” he said. It wasn’t a question, exactly, but Carisi could see the uncharacteristic insecurity in those green eyes that he loved so much. “Or better yet, marry me and then move in. Just…Dom, _you_ are home, for me.”

Carisi pulled in a shaky breath, overwhelmed by his love for the other man. He felt a smile spreading across his face, and saw Barba’s lips quirk in response. He saw the relief in Barba’s eyes, too, and knew that somehow, incredibly, Barba had actually been worried.

“Alright, Counselor,” Carisi said. “I’ll agree to your terms on one condition.” He held up a finger and Barba’s eyes narrowed, again. “One quick dance and then you let me get you out of those damned suspenders—and everything else. Slowly.”

“That sounds like more than one condition,” Barba answered, pretending as though he weren’t the one who’d wanted to dance. The hungry look in his eye made Carisi swallow.

“I thought you liked negotiating,” Carisi managed, unsure how much more he could stand before completely embarrassing himself.

Barba, sensing his thoughts, glanced down at the bulge straining against the fly of Carisi’s jeans. He dragged his gaze back up to Carisi’s, one side of his mouth tipping into a half-smile. “I can’t negotiate with you,” he said. “It’d be unfair, you’re not thinking clearly.”

“Yeah, okay, I’ll give you whatever you want as long as you quit standing so far away.”

Barba laughed, again, and Carisi crossed over to him, all willpower gone. “Deal,” Barba said. “ _Todo lo que desees, mi amor_ ,” he added, allowing Carisi to back him up against the counter.

“Hear that?” Carisi asked, cocking his head toward the soft sounds of the stereo.

“Ray LaMontagne,” Barba answered.

“ _Let It Be Me_ ,” Carisi said. “Can this be our song?”

“Listen, babe,” Barba told him with that sexy little smirk, “anything you want can be anything you want.”

“In that case, I’m renegotiating. Let’s go,” Carisi said, sliding his fingers between Barba’s and tugging on his hand. “Bedroom. Suspenders. Now.”

“I thought we were dancing,” Barba said, pursing his lips in a pout that made Carisi laugh.

“Later,” he promised. “To the end of love, like Cohen said,” he added, pulling Barba toward the bedroom.

 


End file.
